


Sweater Sabotage

by Zoelily



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Destiel Christmas Minibang, Human Castiel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 20:23:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5469725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoelily/pseuds/Zoelily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Castiel's first Christmas as a human and the Winchesters' first celebrating properly at the bunker.  Sam and Dean pull out all the holiday traditions and Castiel pulls out the ugly sweaters.  It's anything but boring, especially for Dean and Castiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweater Sabotage

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Destiel Christmas Mini Bang](http://destielchristmasminibang.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. My prompt was sweaters.
> 
> Beautiful header and aesthetic by the talented [Ris](http://fvckingjensen.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Beta'd by the amazing [MoniJune](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MoniJune/pseuds/MoniJune)

Last time Cas was human he was alone. Cold, hungry, and tired, he dealt with the strangeness of humanity without the love of friends or family to guide him. This time, he has the Winchesters. Dean makes pancakes and burgers that Cas can actually enjoy without having to chew each individual molecule. He has his own room, with a small TV and extra blankets. He even has his own coffee mug that Sam picked out for him at the thrift store because it has a picture of a bee on it. Dean likes to tease him because of the four heaping spoons of sugar he dumps in his coffee every morning, but he doesn’t mind. Listening to Dean heckle him reminds Cas that he isn’t alone, and he’s thankful for it.

Sam has made it his mission to make sure Cas has everything he needs for day to day life as a human. Dean has made it a priority to make sure he gets to enjoy good food, cold beer, classic rock, and bad porn. Sam takes him shopping in town for clothes and toiletries, while Dean introduces him to Star Wars, Indy, and salty buttered popcorn. Cas is content in a way that he hadn’t expected to be. He feels like he has a home.

It has been mutually decided that they will take a break from hunting. Dean needs to re-center after the grace cure that rid him of the mark. Cas needs to adjust to having given up his grace to fix Dean. Sam just needs to hover over Dean and Cas, proving to himself once and for all that they are safe. The holidays are right around the corner, and that’s as good a time as any to kick back and recharge.

The bitter cold front hits Kansas mid-December. Having spent much of their lives living out of a car, Sam and Dean adjust easily, throwing on an extra shirt or flannel to keep out the bunker’s winter chill. The Winchesters are no strangers to layers. Cas, on the other hand, is freezing all the time. Never having had to worry about regulating body temperature, Cas finds his teeth chattering and has taken to wandering around wrapped in an old scratchy grey blanket to ward of the cold. When Sam offers to take him into Lebanon to look for some warmer clothes, Cas is happy to go along. Dean, not one for shopping unless it’s for weapons or car parts, decides he’ll skip the male bonding and promises to go digging through the bunker’s dusty storage to look for Christmas decorations. He figures it’s probably a lost cause, but he’ll agree to almost anything to get out of wandering through a mall.

The twenty-minute trip into town feels much longer as Cas rubs his hands in front of Baby’s ancient heat vents. “How do you ever get used to this?” he asks Sam, switching to rub his hands on his thighs hoping the friction of the rough denim will create some warmth. “I don’t really think about it,” Sam replies. “Just gotta dress for it. We’ll grab you some warm flannels and wool socks. You’ll be all set.” Cas nods appreciatively as Sam expertly parallel parks right out front of the Goodwill store. The Impala may be Dean’s baby, but Sam drives her with a confidence that shows years of practice.

Inside the tiny shop, Cas lets his eyes roam over the disorganized chaos. Shelves of once-loved knick-knacks dominate the small space, but he heads straight for the jammed racks of colourful clothing towards the back. Sam wanders over holding up a pair of jeans. “These look ok?” Cas nods absentmindedly. He’s not fussy about what he wears. Right now he lives in Dean’s cast-off jeans or sweatpants and threadbare band shirts. Sam grabs a couple of faded, worn-soft plaid flannels and tosses them in the cart he’s trying to maneuver through the bulging racks. A crooked hand-drawn 50% off sign tacked to a row of bulky sweaters catches Cas’ eye. He wanders over and grabs the first one, thinking that the less they spend on his winter wardrobe the better. Hustling pool and credit card fraud can only get you so far. The sweater is huge; bright blue with a lime green zig zag pattern around the neck and cuffs. It’s a little pilled, but to Cas it just looks loved. He holds it up for Sam’s approval.

“Really, Cas?” Sam asks with a smirk. “You don’t like it?” Cas replies, casting his eyes down, feeling a little wounded by Sam’s reaction. “I think it looks warm and seasonally appropriate.”

Sam shakes his head. “Whatever makes you happy, Cas.”

While Sam wanders off to look at beanies and gloves, Cas slings the sweater over his arms and starts working his way through the rest of the rack. He fingers the softness of the different wool blends and marvels at the intricate designs and wonderful assortment of colours. “These make me very happy!” he mumbles to himself as he chooses several more.

They leave the store an hour later with two large plastic bags of clothes, mostly for Cas, but with a few things for Sam and Dean thrown in. The drive back to the bunker is much more comfortable now that Cas is bundled up in the blue and green sweater and a lined trench coat. Sam had laughed when Cas found the damn thing. Other than the fleece lining, it’s almost identical to his old one, so obviously, Cas loves it.

~*~

They arrive back at the bunker to find Dean brushing the dust from several wooden crates that look like they haven’t been moved in fifty years. In truth, they probably haven’t. “Hit the Christmas motherlode!” Dean whoops, smacking his hand against the closest crate and dislodging half a century’s worth of dust bunnies.

“I’m not sure the Men of Letters would have celebrated a Christian holiday, Dean.” Cas remarks, shrugging off his new coat. “I suspect there were many religions at play in their society, not to mention a good number of atheists.”

Dean glances up at Cas and Sam with an eye roll. “Well, based on the contents of these boxes, they celebrated something. Stop being such a Scrooge and help me unpack!”

Cas gives one of his patented confused-looking head tilts; a habit humanity hasn’t broken him of, and mumbles, “I have no idea why you would compare me to a selfish character in a popular Christmas story. One about a very unrealistic ghost, I might add.”

Sam puts a large hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. “Just let Dean have his fun. Go do something with those new clothes, and I’ll help him get this stuff unpacked and we’ll see what we have. Maybe we can spend the afternoon finding a place for this stuff. Get into the spirit a bit with some hot chocolate and Christmas music?” Dean looks slightly less put out and nods his agreement to Sam’s suggestion. “Sounds awesome, but I draw the line at carols, and I want a splash of jack in my cocoa!”

An hour or so later, Cas wanders back into the library to the sight of the brothers trying to wrestle a frosty, eight foot spruce tree into a rusty bucket of sand. Dean catches sight of him as he stands in the doorway. “Hey Cas! What do you think of this puppy? Found it just a few yards from the garage and chopped it down.” Cas frowns, wondering what a tree has to do with a baby dog. He’s still contemplating it as Dean takes a good look at him. “Cas, buddy? What the living hell are you wearing?”

Cas runs his hands down the bulky front of his new sweater. “I got it in the store Sam and I went to today. You don’t like it?” he asks, not sure why Dean’s approval matters so much. “Uh…” Dean stammers, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he obviously searches for something that won’t hurt Cas’ feelings. “Well, I wouldn’t wear it, but it looks warm and cozy. If you like it, Cas, that’s all that matters. “ Cas smiles, thinking that’s probably as close to approval as he’s going to get from Dean. He knows Dean doesn’t like giving compliments any more than he likes receiving them, so he’ll take it.

It doesn’t take long for the three of them to get the tree standing straight and the snow brushed off. The crates, it turns out, are filled with a beautiful selection of old-fashioned ornaments from a mixture of holiday celebrations. The men are in awe as they sort through carefully wrapped snowflakes, angels, bells, and holly leaves, intricately designed out of crystal, precious metals, wood, and fabrics. Cas imagines the care and attention that went into creating the wonderful baubles and is reminded of heaven and its magnificent glory. It puts a smile on his face to know he will be able to see such a lovely reminder of his home every day during the holidays.

Sam goes to make the hot chocolate, so Dean ropes Cas into helping decorate the tree. There are no lights, but the decorations are so ornate and unique, the lights won’t be missed. Dean is like an excited child, grabbing ornaments and hanging them wherever he gets a whim. Cas is precise, and stops to stare at the tree in a very Castiel-like way, looking for gaps and symmetry. It’s when Cas is reaching for one of the higher branches to hang a miniature pewter reindeer that his new blue sweater catches on one of the spiky branches, and he can’t pull away. The more he tries to wiggle backwards to disconnect the offending branch, the more spruce needles and a couple of metal hooks get caught until he is well and truly tangled! “Um, Dean? I’m having a bit of difficulty.” Cas says quietly, somewhat embarrassed by his predicament.

From the other side of the massive tree, Dean leans around, sees the garish sweater pinned to the branches, and starts to laugh uncontrollably, head thrown back and green eyes sparkling. “I’m glad you find this so amusing, Dean,” Cas grumbles. “I could really use some help.” Dean hiccups a little but finally gets his laughter under control. “Don’t worry; I’ve got you, Cas.” Dean leans his arm around Cas’ shoulders and starts unclasping the needles from the bulky wool. It takes a bit of time, but eventually Cas is able to back up from the tree and brush himself off. When he reaches down to pull off the last of the spruce bits, he notices three large holes where the hooks had caught and caused the wool to unravel. “I think I ruined it,” he says with a downcast look. Dean gently lifts the front of the sweater to get a closer look. Cas feels Dean’s fingers brush his skin gently through the holes and flushes warm from the light touch. Dean pulls back quickly; running his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I don’t think there’s any saving this one.” Cas shrugs his shoulders. “Good thing I picked up a few then I suppose.” Figuring he better go change, he excuses himself and wanders down the hall to his room, still tingling a little from Dean’s touch.

~*~

There is no sign of either Winchester brother when Cas returns to the library. A quick glance over to the tree proves that the decorating is at least mostly finished. There are still a few stray ornaments on the small table next to the sofa but there appears to be little space left on the branches. Cas is mesmerized. Humanity truly does create some magnificent things.

Laughter from the kitchen prompts Cas as to where to find Sam and Dean. Cas leans against the door jamb and watches his friends, not wanting to disturb their jovial moods. Sam is stirring something in a steaming cast iron pot over the stove and Dean is kneeling on the stainless steel countertop, sorting through an upper cabinet, obviously looking for something; his shoulders still shaking from laughing. Sam glances up and notices Cas watching. “Hi, Cas. Hot cocoa is almost done, and Dean’s looking for popcorn.”   Cas glances between the brothers, looking a little confused. “I thought popcorn was commonly eaten while watching movies?” he asked. “Is it also eaten while listening to Christmas music?” Dean chooses that moment to jump down from the counter with a jar of yellow kernels in one hand. He jogs the few steps over to Cas, chuckling under his breath and reaches up to squeeze Cas’ shoulder. “The popcorn is to make garland for the tree, Cas.” Cas isn’t sure he really understands, but he nods anyway. He supposes he’ll find out what Dean means soon enough.

Sam pours steaming hot chocolate into three mugs and indicates with a wave of his hand that Cas and Dean should each take one. He grabs his own mug and heads towards the doorway. “I think I’ll go finish the book I’m reading while you two get that popcorn made.” Cas picks up his bee mug and takes a careful sip. “This is very good, Sam. Thank you.” Sam nods with an appreciative smile and disappears around the corner.

“Guess it’s just you and me, man.” Dean announces, glancing down at his own mug of hot chocolate. “You wanna help make these popcorn strings?” Cas thinks Dean looks a little ruffled and it brings to mind the brush of the man’s fingers against his chest earlier. The flush Cas feels climbing his neck and heating his cheeks must be from the hot drink he thinks, not willing to admit it could be from his wandering thoughts. “I’m not sure what we’re doing exactly, but I’m happy to help.” Cas eventually replies. “Okay, let’s get this show on the road, then.” Dean says excitedly, his prior nervousness apparently now gone. He pulls a heavy dutch oven off of the shelf next to the stove and gets to work.

An hour later, Dean and Cas are sitting on the sofa in the library with several large bowls of popcorn scattered around them. Cas watches with rapt attention as Dean attempts to thread the end of a spool of fishing line through the tiny hole in a sewing needle. “I don’t remember this being so difficult,” Dean complains, squinting at the tiny piece of metal between his fingers.

“Maybe your eyesight isn’t as good as when you were younger, Dean,” Cas surmises, earning a serious bitchface from Dean. “Would you like me to try?” Dean rolls his eyes at Cas’ remark, shoving the fishing line and needle into Cas’ open hand. “You’re older than I am, by several millennia!” Cas glares at Dean with an offended grunt. “I assure you, Jimmy Novak had 20/20 vision, and I have retained it even in my human form.” He then holds the needle up and threads the line through the hole on the first try. “Show off!” Dean huffs, looking a little impressed anyway.

Several poked fingers and hundreds of broken popcorn kernels later; there are a couple of lengthy strings completed. Cas is sucking intently on his thumb where the most recent tiny hole resides when he notices Dean staring at him oddly, his face a little more flushed than usual and his eyes wide. “Dean? Are you alright?” Cas questions, wondering what has Dean so flustered. Dean jumps a bit and runs his hand back through his hair, breaking eye contact with Cas and moving his eyes to Cas’ chest. “I was just staring at your ridiculous sweater. Is that a cat?” Dean asks, shaking his head.

Cas looks offended. This particular sweater is his favourite of the ones he chose at the thrift store. It’s a lovely bright green with a picture of a fluffy cat in a Santa hat, tangled in a string of Christmas lights. The words “Meeeoowy Christmas” are emblazoned in red and white letters across his chest. The hurt look on Cas’ face must sway Dean’s opinion of the sweater because his lips, which Cas decidedly isn’t staring at, turn up at the corners into a bright smile. “It actually kinda suits you, man” Dean mumbles, looking somewhat embarrassed by the admission. Cas grins at the compliment, not unaware of the flutters suddenly taking over inside his chest. He thrives on anything that pleases Dean; a fact he’s never questioned, and he lives for the smiles that make Dean’s eyes crinkle in the corners.

Dean reaches over and grabs the bowl of popcorn he had set off to the side. “This one has butter and salt on it!” he says as he reaches over for the DVD remote. “It’s Netflix time!” Cas nods enthusiastically, sets the popcorn garlands on the coffee table, and settles in to watch whatever Dean chooses to educate him with next.

Cas finds “Home Alone” rather amusing, if a little unrealistic. He is intent on finding out whether young Kevin will get reunited with his family before Christmas and not paying much attention to Dean, so it makes him jump when he gets tapped in the side of the head with a piece of buttery popcorn. Dean laughs with his whole body at the shocked look on Cas’ face. It occurs to him that retaliation is the most human response to the popcorn onslaught, so he grabs a handful of greasy kernels and shoves them right in Dean’s face. Dean looks absolutely stunned that Cas would resort to such childish measures. He swipes the last of the popcorn from his partially open mouth and snakes his tongue out to catch the butter. Cas can’t help but stare as Dean licks the shiny substance from his full, parted lips. He is sure that Dean slows the motion down intentionally when he catches Cas’ gaze, and he can’t stop looking. The eye contact goes on longer than is obviously comfortable for Dean because he grabs the popcorn bowl in his greasy hands and upends it right over Cas’ head. “Dean!” he shrieks, as slimy, half melted butter drips down his hair. “It’s ruining my new sweater!” Dean has the decency to at least look apologetic as Cas grabs a handful of Kleenex from a box on the end table and starts dabbing at the offending shiny stain that covers the cat’s face.

Dean reaches across his lap to snag another handful of the tissue and leans in to wipe the butter off Cas’ forehead and nose. Cas leans in to the touch automatically, his breath hitching when Dean takes the back of his other hand and gently brushes it down the fresh stubble on his warming cheek. He chances glancing up and sees Dean’s eyes flutter closed as he bridges the distance between them. Cas, knowing that he so much wants what he’s sure is about to happen, takes that last leap of faith and pushes forward to touch Dean’s lips with his own. The soft noise that escapes Dean as their mouths slot together urges Cas to deepen the kiss and flick his tongue against the seam of Dean’s plush lips. Dean opens for him and he can taste the butter and salt from the popcorn, but he can also sense and feel the heat that is all Dean.

Without even realizing they’ve moved, Cas finds himself lying half-prone underneath Dean’s tall frame, one arm tight around Dean’s back and the other fisting in his spiky hair. Dean has his thigh wedged between Cas’ legs, and he’s shifting lightly against him as their kisses become more and more heated. Cas can’t help the desperate moan that slips out as he realizes just how hard he is, and that Dean must be as well because he can feel the heat of his length moving against his own. Dean has one hand gripping Cas’ shoulder hard enough to leave finger marks and his other hand is slowly snaking its way up under his ruined sweater. As the calloused fingers make their way across Cas’ heated skin, he involuntarily arches his back, chasing the firmness he can now feel easily through Dean’s jeans.

With the slightest adjustment, they are rocking against each other like horny teenagers, gasping with no thought to the fact that they are not the only ones in the bunker. “Oh, Dean,” Cas sighs into Dean’s lips. “I’ve waited so long, so long for this, so long for you.” Dean answers by pushing harder and faster. “Fuck, Cas! So hard! So hot! Not gonna last!” Cas is practically shaking with need as Dean pinches a nipple between his fingers; rolling it and tugging just enough to cause a sensation of intense pleasure/pain that sends him reeling. “Don’t stop, Dean! Please don’t stop! I need…” Dean drags his lips across Cas’ cheek to his neck and up to the shell of his ear, whispering between feather-light kisses. “Not gonna stop, baby. Not until you come for me.” That’s all Cas needs to push him over the edge he’s been teetering on, and he bucks up to meet Dean’s denim-covered cock one last time as he finds his release, repeating Dean’s name over and over in worship. Dean is done for as soon as he sees how gorgeous and strung out Cas looks as he reaches orgasm; crystal blue eyes bearing down on him like he hung the moon. A couple more ruts and Dean is coming hard in his pants like his hasn’t since he was sixteen.

“Wow!” is the only word Cas can conjure as he waits for his heartbeat to return to normal. Dean nods his agreement against Cas’ heaving chest where he has the offensive green sweater shoved up to his nipples. “I feel like we’re gonna get pretty sticky and gross if we don’t move soon,” Dean murmurs, reluctantly pushing himself up on his elbows to look down at the man he just dry humped against the couch. Cas can already feel the come getting uncomfortably cold and slimy in his damp boxers. “Yes, I agree, Dean. Maybe a shower would be a good idea.” Dean scrambles up from the couch, adjusting his crotch at the wet spot, and then yanking Cas up by his arms. Gripping his hand as if scared Cas might suddenly flutter away like he used to, Dean drags him down the hall to the showers. They do have excellent water pressure after all, and plenty of room for two.

~*~

Cas is slow to wake the following morning. He feels warm and protected, which is unusual. As a human, he fears sleep and his inability to control the world around him while in slumber. His eyes blink open as memories of the evening before rush over him, and he realizes the reason for his contentedness. Dean has one arm thrown loosely over Cas’ waist, and the other tucked under his pillow. One knee is slotted between Cas’ legs, and he is snoring softly. Cas smiles to himself, unused to feeling safe and cherished.

Cas only has a few minutes of solitude to bask in his happiness before he feels Dean shift behind him. He’s unsure of what to expect from the man he fell for, in more ways than one. He knows Dean loves him, they’ve been through too much together for him not to, but he’s fearful that he will wake to regret the intimacy of the day before. Cas begins to realize maybe his fears are unfounded as Dean leans in to drop tender kisses on his shoulders and neck. “Mornin’ Cas!” Dean whispers. “Relax, I’m not freaking out about what we did. I can practically hear you thinking.” Cas sighs in relief, dropping the tension he hadn’t even realized he had been holding in his taut shoulder muscles, and slowly shifts around to face Dean. “Good morning, Dean,” he replies with a gummy smile.

Dean returns the smile, softly trailing his fingertips across Cas’ bare chest. “I guess we need to talk, huh?” He nods silently, wanting Dean to start this conversation. He knows how Dean is about feelings so it seems easier to let him lead. Cas can see Dean is struggling with where to start, so he leans over and presses a chaste kiss to his lips, hoping to give him the encouragement he needs to start speaking. It seems to work. Dean looks straight into his eyes and asks softly, “How long, Cas?”

Cas pauses just a moment and then answers just as quietly. “Since that first day in the barn when you tried to kill me. You’re the righteous man; the one I was to protect for Heaven’s cause. But, it was more than that right from the beginning. You were always the reason, Dean, always my reason for everything. I found myself with this emotion I wasn’t supposed to have as an angel of Heaven, but I couldn’t deny it. I’ve loved you for so long I don’t even remember how it feels not to. I never really harboured any hope that you would feel the same.” Dean lets out the breath he’s been holding, and Cas watches as Dean obviously tries to formulate what he wants to say.

“I could say I didn’t know,” Dean eventually responds, not releasing Cas’ gaze for a moment, “but I’d be lying. I felt something and I pushed it aside. All those years dodging this bond between us, and I knew the whole time it would eventually come to this. I was scared, Cas. I wish I’d gotten my head out of my ass sooner. Look at what we’ve been missing!” Cas grins and climbs clumsily onto Dean’s lap, straddling his hips and crotch, effectively pressing him down into the memory foam. “Well, we have a great deal of time to make up for, don’t we? How about a repeat performance of last night, with a little less clothing?” Dean chuckles and thrust up with his hips, pushing into Cas’ already semi-hardness. “Yeah! I think that’s an awesome idea!”

~*~

Cas and Dean don’t make it out of bed until almost noon. At that time, they stumble into the kitchen for coffee and nourishment, looking for all intents and purposes like two people who’ve spent all morning fucking like bunnies.   Cas’ hair is sticking up in a million different directions, even more so than normal, and he’s wearing another of his too-big Christmas sweaters and a pair of Dean’s old frayed jeans. Dean doesn’t look much better in a threadbare black Zep shirt and grey sweatpants with a hole in the knee.

Sam, glancing up from the frying pan where a perfect grilled cheese is just starting to brown, just lifts a questioning eyebrow at his brother and waits. Dean runs his hand across the back of his neck and stammers, “So yeah, um… Cas and me, I mean, uh, well we um…” Cas takes pity on him and looks directly at Sam. “What Dean is so eloquently trying to explain is that he and I have finally consummated the feelings we’ve been harbouring for each other for quite some time. I hope this isn’t going to make you uncomfortable. We will certainly try not to display too much physical intimacy in your presence, but we are together and that is something you will have to get used to.”

Sam shakes his head and laughs. “Finally! I can’t believe Dean finally stowed his shit and admitted he loves you. Maybe now some of the unresolved sexual tension around here can settle and we can enjoy our Christmas time off. I’m good with it guys, honestly. I’m happy for you both.” Dean lets out a relieved sigh, grabs Cas’ hand and heads directly for the coffee pot. “So Sam, how about making a couple more of those sandwiches?”

Once everyone has a cup of coffee and a grilled cheese, they sit at the table in the war room to kick around plans for the rest of the day. It’s then, after a particularly large bite of cheesy goodness, that Dean finally notices Cas’ sweater. “Cas? What’s on your sweater?” Cas glances down to his chest and replies, “They’re moose, Dean. I thought that was obvious. Red sweater, white diamonds, a black snowflake, and two black moose looking at each other.” Dean bursts into hysterical laughter, actually slapping his knees and gasping for breath. “Moose? Seriously Cas? You’re wearing Sammy on your Christmas sweater?” Cas actually smirks slightly at Dean’s comment while Sam puts on his best patented bitchface. “Well, I wasn’t thinking about that when I chose it, but now that you mention it, it is rather appropriate for a Winchester Christmas,” Cas deadpans. Sam just shakes his head, used to being the butt of his brother’s jokes, but not so much Cas’. “Okay, you two. Enough with the moose jokes. What are your plans for the afternoon?” Cas shrugs, deferring to Dean as always.

Dean jumps up to clear the plates and mugs from the table. “I could use some vitamin D, so I thought maybe a walk, see how much snow has piled up out there, then I actually have some last-minute Christmas shopping to do and I need to fly solo for that. Although you’re both welcome to join me for the walk part.” Sam shakes his head. “I think I’ll clean up in here and then check in with the network. Make sure they know we’re still alive.” Dean glances over to Cas. “How about you? Up for a walk in the Winter Wonderland? Looks like you’re dressed for it already.” Cas pushes up from the table and brushes some grilled cheese crumbs into his hand before walking to the sink to tip them in. “Yes, I’ll come with you, Dean. I also need to do some shopping later. Would you mind accompanying me, Sam, since Dean needs to be alone apparently?” “You bet!” Sam answers. “Just give me a shout when you’re ready to go.”

It doesn’t take long for Cas and Dean to throw on their outdoor gear. Dean just chuckles at Cas’ new trench coat and whispers under his breath, “some things never change.” Once outside, the brightness of the sun against the stark white landscape causes them both to squint after the low light in the bunker, and they can see their breath in the crisp cold air. Cas feels a sense of peace in the quiet of the snow-covered trees and again thanks his father for the beauty of nature and the fortune of his place with humanity, especially the human trudging through the snow beside him. They walk in comfortable silence, the backs of their gloved hands brushing against each other with each step. It doesn’t take long before Dean clasps Cas’ hand in his own, folding their fingers together tightly. Cas just hums contentedly.

After a short while, Cas begins to shiver, despite the lined trench coat and sweater. By silent mutual agreement, they head back to the bunker. Cas lets go of Dean’s hand to walk ahead to the door and just as he reaches to open it, something wet and cold smacks him in the back of the head. He spins around to see Dean, ten feet back, doubled over with laughter, the remains of a thrown snowball on the gloved hand he holds in the air. “Oh, Cas, you look like someone kicked your puppy!” Dean gets out between bouts of hysterics. Unimpressed, Cas glares at him and retorts with a huff “I do not own a puppy, Dean!”

Dean rushes up to him with a guilty grin on his face. “Aw, come on Cas, you know that was funny.” Cas allows the taller man to wrap his arms around his bundled waist in apology before shoving the handful of snow he was hiding behind his back smack into Dean’s face. Dean jumps back in surprise, wiping the frozen clumps from his eyelashes. “Oh you’ve had it now, angel!” Dean yells out, scooping up a handful of snow and shoving it unceremoniously down the neck of Cas’ coat and into his sweater. Cas gasps at the chill against his bare skin and shoves open the bunker door before Dean can do any more damage.

Once inside where it’s warm and dry, the two men remove their almost frozen outerwear and shake the snow from their hair. Cas picks up the soggy hem of his red moose sweater and holds it out away from his body with an annoyed look. “What is it with you and my new sweaters, Dean? If I didn’t know better I’d think you were trying to sabotage them!” Dean looks down sheepishly. “I hope you do know better, Cas. I think they actually look kinda cute on you. I wouldn’t actively try and ruin them.” Cas drops the sweater and lifts his hands to cup Dean’s red cheeks. He leans and places a chaste kiss on the other man’s cold, dry lips, then pulls back and grins one of his best gummy smiles. “So you think I’m cute, huh?”   Dean rubs his hand on the back of his neck, his eyelashes fluttering down in embarrassment. “Okay, okay, enough of that girly stuff. Time to get you out of that soaked sweater and into something warm and dry. You and Samantha have a shopping date!” Cas just laughs and follows Dean to the bedrooms.

~*~

Later that day, Cas and Sam are wandering through the mall looking for a last-minute gift for Dean. Cas already has presents for both Winchesters, but with the new development in his and Dean’s relationship (Were they in a relationship? Cas was going to have to ask Dean about that.), Cas felt he needed to get him something besides the “100 Best Burger Recipes” cookbook and the air fresheners for Baby. They’ve been in the mall for over an hour and so far nothing has caught Cas’ eye. He’s been almost run into several times by unruly children; the parents of said children are snappy, and the seasonal decorations are rather garish and overdone in his opinion. Sam is beginning to drag his feet and Cas is getting irritable and hungry. They’re just heading to the food court to grab some tacos or something when Cas slams to a stop outside Hot Topic and points. “Right there, Sam! It’s perfect!” Sam is probably about to lament that only teenage fangirls shop at Hot Topic when he notices what Cas is looking at. “Haha, Cas. That’s actually great!” Cas nods and heads into the crowded store.

It really is packed with teenagers, and a few middle aged women, but Cas pushes his way to the racks next to the window display. He grabs a hanger and holds it up for Sam to see. The smile on Sam’s face is all Cas needs to see. He pushes his way to the register, his purchase tucked under his arm.

~*~

Back at the bunker, Sam and Cas find Dean placing wrapped presents under the tree. Sam, the giant child that he is, rushes over and starts looking through the packages and shaking anything that has his name on it. Cas excuses himself to his bedroom to get his gifts ready to join the others under the tree. He’s never wrapped anything before, but he’s sure it can’t be too difficult. If he can smite a demon, he can wrap a gift.

An hour later, after a frustrating fight with scissors and tape, Cas rejoins Sam and Dean in the library with a bundle of crinkled paper covered boxes with bits of tape sticking out in as many directions as his hair. “I didn’t expect this to be such a challenge,” he mumbles with a bewildered look on his face. Dean chuckles at Cas’ obvious embarrassment and pulls the man into his arms with a load of poorly wrapped gifts between them. “It doesn’t matter what they look like, Cas. It’s the thought that counts.” Cas feels a little better, although still frustrated that something as innately human as the ability to use wrapping paper causes him to feel so inadequate. Dean places a gentle kiss on Cas’ forehead before taking the load of presents and piling them under the tree with the rest. “I think we’re all set for the evening now,” Dean announces. Time for eggnog!” Sam, knowing just how much rum makes it into Dean’s Christmas Eve eggnog, just grins and shakes his head.

They spend a fun evening playing monopoly (which Sam wins), poker (which Dean wins), and Trivial Pursuit (which Cas destroys them at), and drinking more of Dean’s special recipe eggnog than is probably wise, but all in all it’s a pretty great Christmas Eve. Cas is more than a little drunk. Now that he’s human, he’s actually kind of a lightweight, and Dean and Sam take turns teasing his drunken antics. Eventually, Cas is dozing off on Dean’s shoulder, drooling into his favourite flannel, so Dean hauls him up and with an arm around his waist to guide him away from obstacles, and they stumble to Dean’s room. He deposits a slurring Cas onto the bed and moves to take off his boots. Cas mumbles something about a blow job, which a certain part of Dean perks up about, but he just wills it down and finishes pulling off Cas’ boots and covers him with a blanket. Within minutes, Cas is snoring soundly, his arm wrapped tightly around Dean’s pillow.

~*~

Cas wakes to a pounding headache. He opens his eyes slowly, noticing a glass of water and pills on the nightstand. He rolls over to an empty bed and groans, wondering what time it is that Dean is already up. It takes a little longer than usual, but eventually he manages to take the painkillers, drink the water, and pull on sleep pants and a t-shirt.   Stumbling into the kitchen, trying not to jostle his head and stomach too much, Cas drags out a chair and slumps down leaning his forehead on the table. “Merry Christmas! Rough morning, Cas?” Dean asks with a slight smile. He’s no stranger to hangovers so no doubt he knows exactly what Cas is feeling. Cas just groans out something that sounds like “coffee!”

It takes twenty minutes, a plate of eggs, bacon, and pancakes, and two cups of coffee before Cas feels human again. It was much easier to consume alcohol when he was an angel, he thinks. The three men take their coffee mugs into the library to continue their Christmas morning.

Sam, who is vibrating like an excited puppy, decides he will be Santa and throws himself to the floor next to the tree. Dean and Cas curl up together on the couch and wait for the gifts to be passed out. Dean is thrilled with the cookbook and air fresheners. He also has a couple of new flannels and a “Game of Thrones” box set from Sam. Dean gives Cas new gloves and a scarf and wool hat, and a book about raising bees. Sam is excited about the new jacket and crime novels Dean bought him and the socks and wallet from Cas.

There are just two gifts left and Sam passes them to the men on the couch. As Dean rips of the mangled paper from his, and Cas slowly peels back the tidy wrapping, they both start to laugh. Sam looks confused as Cas and Dean become almost hysterical about the contents of the packages. “What’s so funny, guys?” he questions, looking unimpressed about being left out of the joke. “We bought each other the same thing,” Dean replies, holding up his gift. Sam had already seen it at Hot Topic when Cas bought it, but he realizes Dean had managed to find the exact same present: a navy blue sweater covered in white Star Wars icons in a white Christmas sweater design. “I thought you should have a Christmas sweater as well, Dean, and this one seemed perfect for you,” Cas explains as he mostly calms down. Dean leans in and plants a kiss right on the other man’s lips. “It’s awesome!” Dean says, still smiling. “I got you one because I keep ruining the sweaters you bought last week, and well, this one is a whole lot cooler than the ones you’ve been wearing.” Cas grins; forgetting to look offended at Dean’s comment, and snuggles into Dean’s shoulder. “I love it, Dean. Thank you,” he says softly, lacing his fingers with Dean’s and giving them a gentle squeeze.

~*~

The rest of Christmas Day is spent peacefully for the first time in years. Dean, with a little bit of help from a very handsy Cas, manages to cook up a glazed ham with all the trimmings, along with three kinds of pie. Sam decides they need to build a snowman, which, of course, turns into another epic snowball fight. The evening is spent in the library, in the shadow of their impressive Christmas tree. They watch the original Star Wars trilogy in honour of Dean and Cas’ matching sweaters, which they both wear proudly.

Sam begs off tired after “The Empire Strikes Back,” leaving the other two men curled up together on the couch, Cas’ head pillowed in Dean’s lap while he strokes his hand through Cas’ thick hair. Cas looks up at the man he’s always loved. “Did you have a good Christmas, Dean?” The hand not in his hair moves slowly up Cas’ leg to his inner thigh, not quite high enough for Cas’ liking. “It was perfect!” Dean replies. “But I do know one thing that would make it even better.” The stray hand is now moving slowly over the growing bulge in Cas’ jeans. Cas gasps as Dean presses the heel of his hand right on his fly then lifts it to pop the snap and slide the zipper down. Cas is fully hard now, and he can feel Dean in the same state under his cheek. Dean slides his fingers inside Cas’ boxers and Cas can’t help the moan that escapes when he feels Dean’s fingers wrap around his erection.

Cas lifts his hips in an invitation for Dean to help him slide his jeans down and between them they manage to shove them down around Cas’ thighs. Dean takes Cas fully in hand and slides his thumb over the wetness already forming at the tip, his other hand still fisting in a mess of hair. Cas is thrusting gently up into Dean’s grip, his breath quickening with the pace of Dean’s hand. He rubs his cheek against the hardness beneath him, still amazed that he’s allowed to have this; that this amazing, kind, funny, beautiful man is really his. Dean is breathing hard now too, shifting his hips with the same rhythm that he jacks Cas. “God, you’re so hard, baby!” Dean pants, locking his eyes on Cas’ blown pupils, dark with want. Cas can feel the pressure building. “Getting close,” he whines, trying to pull Dean down for a kiss but the angle is wrong. He lets out a whimper. Dean runs his thumb down the side of Cas’ cheek. “I got you, Cas.” and that’s all it take to have Cas coming all over Dean’s hand, and spurting upwards.

Dean slumps back on the couch and starts to laugh. Cas is still coming down from his orgasm high so he’s a little confused about what’s so funny. He shuffles upright so he’s almost perched in Dean’s lap and tilts his head. “Why are you laughing?” Dean is actually gasping, tears threatening to escape the corners of his eyes. “The sweaters!” he manages to croak between laboured breaths. “We messed up the sweaters.” Cas looks down and sure enough, both of their sweaters are covered in his release. “Apparently your Christmas sweaters are not destined to survive this holiday, Cas,” Dean chuckles. Cas does think that’s rather amusing. “I suppose maybe we should stick to flannel after all,” he jokes, shaking his head.

Dean just pulls him close and whispers in his ear. “Well right now, why don’t we just not worry about clothes at all?” Cas thinks that’s the best idea he’s heard all day. He clambers up from the couch, trying not to trip over this sagging pants and pulls Dean up to join him. Holding his jeans up with one hand and tugging Dean with the other, Cas makes his way to their now-shared bedroom, pulling Dean in behind him. One good shove and the door closes and Dean’s back is against it. Cas spares no time working down Dean’s jeans and dropping to his knees, nosing into the hardness at eye level. He licks a stripe up the underside of Dean’s cock and then stares up into green eyes. “Merry Christmas, Dean,” he sighs. “Merry Christmas, Cas,” Dean replies with a wicked grin. “Now get back to work!” Cas rolls his eyes at Dean’s attempt at forcefulness, but opens his mouth wide and does exactly that.

  
~*~


End file.
